


The Quickest Feet (fall the hardest)

by themagicalocelot



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3962164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themagicalocelot/pseuds/themagicalocelot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(or, the Barrison AU in which Barry keeps running into Harrison in parks, with a dog that despises him, nonetheless. a lot of jogging is involved, the occasional friendly racing, and the more-than-friendly instances where they also share a bed together.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quickest Feet (fall the hardest)

Winter, 2014. There are several rules implemented in the West family household, most of them dedicated to creating some sort of delegation of tasks in between members of the family.

Barry, for example, is usually in charge of doing the laundry, vacuuming the floor and washing the car whenever Joe is busy with a case. His tasks do  _not_  involve going anywhere near Coco, the Rottweiler that Iris has had since she was a kid, and coincidentally the same dog that for some reason loathes Barry more than any brand of cheap kibble.

So when Iris falls sick and Barry is given the task of walking Coco one afternoon, he tries his best to smile through his clenched teeth and suck it up. But halfway to the park, the dog starts tugging on his leash even more than it had been for the past fifteen minutes, and because the frigid air is leaving his muscles frozen to the bone, it just takes a split second for the dog to run loose and for Barry to start chasing after it like a maniac down the streets.

“Excuse me, sorry, that’s my dog! Can someone please—” He bumps into a jogger down the street, wearing a black tracksuit and a black beanie to match. He tries to make his way past him but a slip on the icy pavement leaves him falling flat on his face.

“Ow,” he says, wiping off some of the ice crystals on his eyebrows. “My… dog…” 

The man holds out a hand and pulls him up, his firm grip on Barry’s shoulder keeping him from toppling over once again. “Your dog’s fine, don’t worry.” 

“Wha— where is she?” Barry asks, still blinking hard from the cold on his eyelids. He can barely see anything, much less focus his eyes on something.

“Right there,” the man says, pointing at a tree in the middle of the park. “Most dogs around here usually mark their territory on that same spot. Don’t worry, she won’t go very far. Are you okay?” 

Once Barry finally regains his vision, he squints and at Coco, who seems to be digging a hole in the chunk of soil surrounding the tree. “Thank  _god_ , Iris would’ve killed me.” He smiles and lets out a sigh of relief, then turns towards the man who was kind enough  _not_  to step over his body on the street.

He’s tall and lean, with dark hair sticking out of his beanie and cheekbones that were sharper than the icicles forming on the road. He looks like he was well in his late forties, maybe even early fifties, but it was hard to tell given the fact that he seemed pretty fit for his age. By the way he lifted Barry up with considerable ease back there, there was no mistake that he wasn’t just your average jogger.

“Thank you, I— uh, nearly died back there. Or I would have, if you didn’t, you know, save me from potentially freezing to death,” he stammers, unsure if it’s his quivering lips hindering his speech or something else entirely. 

The man smiles, dimples forming on both sides as his mouth quirks upwards— which was, by the way, sort of adorable. “That  _might_  be a bit of an overstatement, but you are indeed welcome. I don’t think your girlfriend would be happy if both you and her dog went missing on the same night.”

“My— my girlfriend?” Barry turns around, as if someone’s behind him, which, of course is a false statement. “Oh, no. Iris isn’t my girlfriend. She’s my sister, well, stepsister, sort of. She’s my best friend, and I’m just here to walk her dog, because she’s sick, and I’m usually in charge of the laundry—”

“Laundry?” the man asks, growing more and more amused by the second as he quirks an eyebrow up and breaks into a grin.

“Yes, laundry and a bunch of other things— the dog absolutely  _hates_  me, by the way, in case you haven’t noticed, and sometimes it likes to tear up my clothes aaand you don’t have to know any of these things.” Barry finally manages to put the breaks on himself, biting his lip as he tries to laugh it off. “Just… thanks, once again.”

“My pleasure,” the man replies. He holds out a hand and Barry shakes it, barely feeling anything not just because of the freezing temperatures, but also the fact that his attention is completely focused on his eyes. His sharp, gorgeous blue eyes. “Harrison Wells, nice to meet you.”

“Ha-Harrison Wells?” Barry stammers, barely registering his thoughts before the words spill out of his mouth. “You mean  _the_  Harrison Wells?”

Harrison smiles and does a single nod, and Barry should’ve known earlier— but without the glasses, and the hair tucked inside his beanie, and the slim body all wrapped up in the tracksuit, it is pretty hard to tell. But the eyes, the eyes should’ve been a dead giveaway. The man is an icon, a billionaire and a mogul in the world of science.

“I can see you’re mentally reciting by autobiography,” Harrison says.

“That obvious?” Barry replies, trying his best not to laugh or cover his face by instinct.

Harrison nods again in response, this time giving him a more understanding look. “Why don’t you tell me the start of yours— your name?” 

“Barry Allen,” he replies, a little bit quicker than he had intended to. “I am a huge fan of your work, I’ve read your autobiography like, twice and— oh god. Oh god no, no, no.” 

In the distance, Barry notices Coco running off to chase a cat out of the park. He hates to be the guy to end a conversation, especially when it’s with _Harrison Wells_ , but he’d rather be a jerk than a pile of dead meat once he gets home.

“I…” Barry starts, already inching away towards the dog.

“You have to run,” Harrison says, turning around and cocking his head towards the dog. “Go for it." 

“It was so nice meeting you,” Barry says, as he takes off running, the chilly wind biting his rose-tinted cheeks as he pays extra attention to the ground beneath him in order to avoid more ice-related accidents.

The dog stops at a dead end, and barks at the cat that’s climbing over the fence. Barry pants, kneeling down to take the dog by the leash while crouching for several moments. He’s had enough running for one night. 

“I can’t believe you interrupted me in the middle of a conversation with Harrison Wells,” Barry says breathlessly. “ _Harrison Wells_. God, you and Iris owe me one.”

The dog looks at him, unresponsive, and Barry finds a way to be somehow offended at that. “Don’t look at me like that. You should know that he was the one who initiated the conversation. What? Don’t believe me either? You’ll see. He knows my name now. He knows  _my_  name.”

-

Spring, 2015. The first flowers are starting to bloom, and Barry’s been awfully busy at work recently. But by a stroke of luck, Captain Singh announces that a new crime scene investigator is trying out for the job, which leaves Barry with a day off while the rookie is testing out the waters.

He hasn’t been alone at home for the longest time, and when he is, he’s usually either caught up with work or fast asleep on the couch. Iris is out in college, while Joe is working, which means he doesn’t even have anyone to talk to. He’s been given more free time than he knows what to do with, and the only thing keeping him company is that god-awful dog staring at him from the corner of the living room.

His phone vibrates, and he reads a text from Iris.

_Will be home late today. Take Coco for a walk? – Iris W._

The dog looks at him and growls. Barry wishes he could do the same.

He makes sure this time that he has a good grip on the leash, and that it’s wrapped around his hand for extra measure. It’s actually a pretty good day out, just the perfect temperature, and the dog seems to be in a tolerable mood too.

Barry walks over to the park and takes a seat on one of the benches. It’s barely even a minute until Coco starts pulling on the leash and tries to bite on the sweatpants of some random stranger.

Except it isn’t a stranger. It’s Harrison Wells. Again.

He stops jogging and turns to look at Barry, giving him a curious look that makes him wonder whether or not he remembers him from their last encounter.

“So I see that your stepsister is still trusting you to walk her dog,” Harrison says, and Barry just lights up immediately. “After what happened the other time, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here again, with the same dog nonetheless.”

“She’s my best friend,” Barry says, tying Coco’s leash to the side of the bench. “And she has a lot of faith in me, apparently.”

Harrison shrugs, watching Barry get up once he finishes the knot. “Sister, stepsister, best friend… anyone who tells you to go near a dog, especially this one, is clearly trying to get back at you for something. Tell me, what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

Barry laughs, and he doesn’t know how Harrison does it, talk so fast while maintaining a straight face throughout. He seems to be in an especially good mood today, considering the fact that he’s the one leading what seems to be an actual conversation between them. Barry would think he was joking, if he weren’t staring at him as if waiting for an actual answer.

“Okay, uh, let’s see… I’ve probably accidentally spilled coffee on her customers once? While covering her shift, it was terrible really. I nearly got her in trouble with her boss, which was pretty bad. I fixed it, though, apologized and well, she wasn’t fired?” Barry smiles bashfully, realizing that that probably wasn’t the best story to tell.

There’s a small twitch on the corners of Harrison’s lips, but he barely flinches apart from that. “In other words, you’re practically a saint, Barry Allen.”

Barry smiles nervously, biting his lip as he tries to toss the conversation back at him. “How about you? What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

He finally breaks his stance, chuckling softly as he rubs his thumb on his lip and shakes his head. “You wouldn’t want an answer to that question, trust me.” 

Barry can’t tell if he’s joking or not, because he’s laughing but at the same time there’s a certain levity to his words that makes him sound quite serious. He decides to just take a chance and ask him anyway.

“No, tell me. I’d actually like to know,” Barry says, folding his arms in an attempt to appear engaged. “As the greatest pioneer of the 21st century, do you even have time to make mistakes?”

“Well,” Harrison starts, and looks like he’s actually about to give him a straight answer, but if past experience is an indicator there’s actually no telling where the conversation is about to head.

“I think one day… you’ll come to realize that making mistakes… isn’t the worst thing you can do. Sometimes, the worst thing happens when you do everything right, everything exactly the way you wanted it to be and for all the reasons you thought was right. And despite all of that, there are people in this world who will make you feel like a criminal for what you did, even though… even though you never really did anything wrong. And that, is perhaps the worst thing you can ever do, Barry.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between them, with Barry looking at him, straight into his steel blue eyes to try to read him. But Harrison’s too smart for that, too elusive to show all of his crevices in broad daylight, making him all the more intriguing for Barry.

“I guess you can never control what other people think about you,” Barry finally says. “But you can stand up for what you believe in, what you believe is right.”

Harrison listens attentively, running his tongue on his bottom lip as if he’s heard it all before, but there does seem to be a genuine display of interest for Barry behind those inscrutable eyes.

“With that attitude, I think you’re well on your way to success, Mr. Allen.” Harrison smiles briefly at him, then looks back at the dog sleeping on the bench. “Looks like you’ve finally managed to tame the beast. It’d be a shame if you woke her up now, of all times.”

“Is there anything else I _should_ be doing?” Barry asks, rubbing his hands together and shrugging.

“Well, you could race me and prove that those legs aren’t just fast when they’re chasing after a dog.”

“Deal. If I win, I get a free copy of your next academic journal.”

“That could work,” Harrison shrugs, looking away at a random passerby trying to balance himself on his rollerblades. “Or I could give you a free tour of S.T.A.R Labs.”

“For real?” Barry says, lifting his arms up to his head and trying to keep it cool. Hint: it’s not working. “What happens if you win?”

“Then you’d have to race me again until you win,” Harrison replies, already bending down to tighten his shoelaces. “How does that sound?”

“I’ll take it,” Barry says, and they both take off sprinting.

-

Summer, 2015. Barry had just finished analyzing the last of the samples from the latest crime scene, and he was just about ready to pack his bags and head home before he gets a call from no one other than Harrison.

“Hey,” Barry picks up just by the door, and by the sigh he hears in response he slowly backs away and starts walking back to his desk. “Are… you okay?”

“Just a rough day at the office, that’s all,” Harrison replies, although there’s a certain strain in his voice that’s tugging on a nerve, but Barry just can’t tell what it is.

“Oh, well… is there anything I can do to help?” Barry drops his bag on the floor and props himself up on his desk, legs dangling over the table.

“Actually, I was wondering if you were free for a quick jog this afternoon. Stress relief. It’s all I need, really.”

Barry smiles to himself and hops off the table, grinning like an idiot as he fumbles with his bag and heads back out the door. “Yeah— yeah, of course.”

It’s been ages since Barry had jogged with Harrison. The last time they did was when Harrison challenged Barry to a race, and if he won he promised he’d get a personal tour around S.T.A.R Labs, along with a free copy of whatever academic journal Harrison publishes next. When he told Iris and Joe the story neither of them believed him, but he came back the next day with selfies on his phone and spent the rest of the night answering a multitude of questions.

They haven’t seen each other since then, but they’ve been keeping in contact over the phone, with Harrison sending him updates of what they’ve been up to in S.T.A.R Labs, and Barry telling him all the details of his job. (He’s even sent samples over from his crime scene to get a more in-depth analysis on them, but he left that out of the final report when he submitted it to Captain Singh.)

Point is— Barry is slightly more than thrilled to be seeing Harrison again this afternoon.

And he has a reason to be, because when Harrison shows up at the park wearing shorts and a thin white tee, Barry thinks he’s about to pass out— and not from the summer heat.

“Glad you could make it,” Harrison says, taking a swing of the dripping cold bottle of water he’s holding in his hands. The water trickles down his chin and Barry looks away as if it’s some obscene page on a magazine catalog.

“Glad… I could be here,” Barry says, although it comes out more as a question than anything else. He rubs his hands against each other as Harrison throws the empty bottle into a nearby trashcan, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “So. How many laps are we running?" 

“Is five okay?” Harrison asks, and Barry can only splutter out protests in response.

“Five? I was nearly dying the last time we did four, if you don’t remember,” Barry says.

“Oh, I remember,” Harrison smiles, face gleaming underneath the sun’s flaring rays. “I remember beating you the first three times, and being nice enough to let you win the fourth.”

“You did not let me win,” Barry says, punching him lightly on the shoulder, which, in hindsight, might not have been the best thing to do. Harrison isn’t his friend, should he be giving him shoulder punches at this point?

Harrison doesn’t seem to flinch at that, though, just looks over back at Barry with a look of feigned confusion. “I didn’t? Huh. That’s funny, because, that’s not how I remember it happening.”

“How do you remember it happening?” Barry asks, trying not to stare at the way he looks utterly infuriating with that face and in that shirt.

“Well in _my_ version of that day... I could hardly believe my luck, bumping into you again after our first encounter, and I actually admitted to myself what I’ve been thinking since the first time I met you— that, you were really cute. I couldn’t pass up the chance to invite you over to my lab. So I let you win.”

Barry thinks he feels his knees buckle slightly, and he hopes to god that his voice doesn’t go wobbly on him. “Why the race then?” It still does.

“Well, I really  _did_  want to see if you could run.”

“But?”

“But,” Harrison says, and lets out a chuckle that makes Barry more nervous than he has ever been around that damn dog. “I also wanted to see how much you worked for something you wanted. And I think it was pretty clear, it wasn’t just the office tour you were willing to run more than three laps for."

Barry wishes he could just grab him right now and take off that goddamn shirt of his, but he’d be arrested for public indecency and assault among other things, and that wouldn’t look good on his resume.

Instead, he just clenches his fist, gets ready to run, and presses a tight smile on his face. “You’re right, I wanted those journals too.”

They both take off running across the park, and Barry had always been the better sprinter between the two. He was in the lead for most of the first and second lap, but somewhere in the third lap Harrison was slowly catching up to him.

Barry hears him coming in short, quick pants, and by the time he glances over to his right he sees Harrison running alongside him, his white shirt drenched in sweat. They run together for the next few meters, taking over another group of joggers dressed in uniform.

Harrison’s legs are thin, but they’re deceivingly strong. Like, the kind of strong that can even overtake Barry, despite all his years doing track at school. They’re like pistons pumping back and forth, and don’t even get him started on how his heart can keep up with all this at his age. 

There are no answers to these questions, and by the time the fifth lap comes along, Barry does his best to sprint ahead. Their checkpoint is the bench that Barry had tied Coco to the last time, and they’re just several meters away from reaching it. 

Barry actually manages to summon enough energy in him to catch up with Harrison, but by the time he does, it’s a split second too late, as Harrison sprints ahead to pass the bench. He’s bending over and panting by the time Barry reaches him, and there isn’t much for Barry to do except roll over on the grass and lie flat on his back.

“Still think I let you win?” Harrison walks over towards him and says.

Barry just closes his eyes in response, chest heaving in big, heavy, breaths. “You would never.”

Harrison waits him out for a couple of minutes until he manages to sit back up, and when he does, he wastes no time in cutting to the chase.

“You really think I’m cute?” Barry asks, sitting on the grass and looking up at Harrison who’s already thinking it’s okay to wipe the sweat of his face using his already soaked shirt. Barry would complain, but all he can think of is  _abs_  and well—  _abs_.

“I think you are endearingly idealistic, the way I once was when I was your age, and that your refreshingly genuine in your responses to my intentionally convoluted questions sometimes, which is quite… admirable, to say the least. So yes, along with… all of that, you are pretty cute.”

Barry thinks he needs a second to process all of this. But of course, Harrison doesn’t even give him that.

“So, are you going to roll over on the grass or would you like to come over to my place to clean up?”

“Is that even a question?” Barry says, in the only response that actually makes sense for once.

-

Fall, 2015. Barry enjoys waking up in the afternoons, even though he doesn’t get to do it as often as he likes. But waking up in the afternoon, underneath silk sheets and on top of a king-sized mattress, with Harrison Wells next to him— well, some might say that he’s been having it  _far_  too good.

“Good afternoon,” Barry says, stroking the back of Harrison’s head gently. His fluffy hair feels light to the touch, and it’s funny seeing Harrison’s head poking out of the blankets when the rest of his body is snuggled underneath.

Barry props himself up on the pillow with an elbow and gently massages his scalp as he slowly starts to show these little signs of movement. Harrison finally lifts his eyelids open, and looks up at Barry as if he’s the only sun shining on this rather beautiful, golden, autumn day.

“Why do you always wake up before me,” Harrison murmurs, and Barry just lets out a small laugh in response.

“Because you,” Barry says, leaning forward to kiss his lips before continuing. “You spend all of your energy on me all the time.”

“Mm, I think you mean ‘in you’,” Harrison corrects him, lips stretching into a dopey, half-asleep, smirk.

“That is not incorrect,” Barry says, and Harrison pulls him in for another kiss. This time, Harrison grabs him by the back of his neck until Barry is moving closer towards him, back under the sheets, and soon enough Barry feels their bodies touching, warm and desperate against each other.

Barry stops him before they can move any closer, pulling away before saying, “Oh— we… ran out of condoms, by the way.”

Harrison gives him a  _look_ , the look of slight exasperation and possibly filled with a lot of judging underneath. “Where’s the nearest convenience store?”

“Two blocks down,” Barry says, sitting back up and slowly growing tense. “But I, ah, wanted to ask you if you wanted to do something different this time.”

Harrison looks at him curiously, prodding him on to continue.

“I thought we could maybe go over to my place? Since, well. You’ve never been, and Iris and Joe are out for the weekend, and Coco’s at home, and I really need to feed her at around this time and if we keep on having sex and you keep losing track of time and I forget about the dog—” 

Harrison puts a hand on Barry’s shoulder, tracing it down all the way to his arm. Barry wasn’t sure how he’d react to his request at first, because it’s sounds _so_  high school, and Harrison’s a grown man, and so it comes as a surprise when Harrison’s only response turns out to be, “Absolutely." 

So they both drive to Barry’s house, the West family household, and Harrison parks his car in the garage because Barry’s ninety-five percent sure that Iris and Joe won’t be back until Sunday, and it’s still Friday, so. He can count days.

They finally enter the front door, and Barry’s a little nervous, because, well, for one thing, Harrison has a  _mansion_. The second thing is, there’s a dog waiting around that hasn’t been fed since the morning and is probably ready to rip Barry’s eyeballs out of their sockets the moment he lays his eyes on him. 

“Coco?” Barry says tentatively, walking inside and closing the door with a click. “Coco, it’s dinner time.”

He hears paws walking over the floorboards, and the rattle of his collar growing louder and louder, and soon enough, the dog shows itself in front of the two.

“She looks hungry,” Harrison says, pointing at the salivating dog in front of them. Barry nods and rushes off to the kitchen to find some of the premium kibble Iris keeps in store.

By the time he walks back, he sees Harrison on the floor, with Coco sprawled out on his lap, enjoying what seems to be a belly rub. Barry stops walking, holding the bowls of kibble and water in both hands.

“What are you doing,” Barry says, cautiously walking towards them.

“You know, animals respond differently to different stimuli. They’re very perceptive of how their owners are feeling, what they’re thinking, and therefore react accordingly so what they’re sensing. So most of the time, when you’re around Coco, she’s probably picking up senses of fear and animosity from you, which is why she responds… unkindly.” He looks up at Barry, who’s still questioning his motives right now. “But if you present her with the right type of stimuli, she’ll respond the way you want her to.”

Harrison then scratches the back of Coco’s head, and Barry thinks he hears a sound that resembles some sort of a purr. Barry kneels down slowly and places both bowls on the floor in front of her. She then rolls off Harrison and heads for the food, as Harrison stands back up and shrugs at Barry, with a look that sort of says: ‘wasn’t that easy?’

After Barry cleans up the bowls and Harrison washes his hands, they both head upstairs to Barry’s room. He starts feeling slightly insecure again, as Harrison steps inside and examines the place. He’s wearing his glasses too, which makes him ten times more intimidating than he usually is.

“Where’s my autobiography?” Harrison asks. “I thought you had it memorized down to the bone.”

Barry rolls his eyes and laughs in relief. At least it wasn’t a comment about the messy state of his bed. He walks over to his drawer and pulls out the book, settling down on the edge of his bed. “Here it is. Feel free to sign it, if you like.”

Harrison chuckles and flips through it, scanning through the pages quickly before closing it and putting it back in the drawer. “Maybe next time.”

He then looks over at Barry and bites his lip. It's things like this that constantly gives him anxiety, Barry thinks to himself. He walks over to the bed where Barry is sitting and kisses him, his tongue pushing into his mouth as he pushes Barry back on the bed. He ends up on top of him, while Barry holds on to his shoulders and tries to steady himself underneath the weight of him.

“Harrison,” Barry says, lifting a knee up to his crotch and rubbing it there. “Ah, fuck.”

“I thought you wanted to do something different,” Harrison says, taking off his glasses and moving his mouth down Barry’s neck, kissing every inch of his skin while unbuckling the belt on his own pants.

“Then why are you kissing me like that,” Barry hisses, half in distress, half out of frustration. He takes Harrison by the shoulders and rolls him over on the bed, with Barry ending up on top of him.

“We don’t have condoms,” Harrison says as a matter-of-factly, as if he’s reading out one of his presentations for his board of directors.

Barry smiles and makes his way down to Harrison’s torso. “Well that’s too bad for you, considering how much you enjoy spending time  _in me_.”

He takes Harrison’s length by the hand and wraps his fingers around the base, stroking him in slow, tentative movements. He can hear Harrison’s breath faltering, the same way it does when they’re reaching their third lap while jogging on the park. Barry takes it as a green light to dip his head down and start sucking on the tip gently.

“Barry,” Harrison growls, fingers curling into his hair. “A little  _speed_  would be much appreciated.”

“Relax, just trying to make this good for you,” Barry says, pulling off and stroking the insides of Harrison’s thighs with his free hand. “Besides, isn’t that what you liked about me? What did you call it anyway, my— idealistic nature?”

“Ideally, right now, my cock would be all the way down your throat,” Harrison says.

Barry laughs and raises his hands in mock defeat. “Woah, okay. Is this what you’re like to all your employees? God, I might have second thoughts about working at S.T.A.R Labs now.”

Harrison opens his mouth to say something, and Barry proceeds to take him in his mouth again, and yes, this time he’s pushing for it to go  _all the way_  in. He feels him sliding in to the back of his throat, and takes a moment to adjust his mouth around it before pulling away then pushing back in.

He’s pretty sure Harrison’s enjoying himself right now, judging by the way he hasn’t been doing anything other than moaning Barry’s name over and over again, which is— a nice change for once. He feels himself starting to sweat, all over his forehead mainly, and Harrison’s hands are still in his hair with his grip only growling tighter.

“Barry, I—” Harrison starts, but Barry already knows. He wraps his lips tightly around the base, and he starts to feel his mouth getting full with his cum.

He doesn’t swallow once it’s all over, just scuttles over to his bathroom and spits it out at the sink. He takes a moment to wash his face, and when he looks at his own naked body in the mirror, it’s difficult to ignore how hard he is right now. 

When he goes back in the bedroom, he sees Harrison, lying flat on his back, looking totally spent but also as if he’s had the best time of his life. Barry can’t help but smile as he crawls back onto the bed, pressing a kiss on his lips.

“Your turn,” Harrison whispers into his ear, trying to roll him over the bed, which, resulted in Barry banging his head against his desk lamp.

“Ow,” Barry says. “Not everyone has a king-sized bed, you know.”

“Sorry,” Harrison says, biting his lip and pulling Barry in closer towards him. He straightens his back so that he's sitting up against the board of the bed, while Barry crawls onto him and positions himself on his lap. Harrison combs his fingers through his hair and looks at him with steel blue eyes, gorgeous and focused.

Barry looks at him for a few seconds, then turns towards his desk drawer and pulls out a box of condoms. He lifts it up with his hand smiles at Harrison, who seems to be bordering between being amused and even slightly impressed.

“Actually, I think it’s your turn again.” Barry smiles, knowing full well that he’d made a smart move this time.

- 

Winter, 2015. The night of the particle accelerator launch. Harrison had been talking about this for months. Ever since Barry first walked into S.T.A.R Labs, he knew that this was his life’s work, the next big thing about to come. Harrison was about to make history, and Barry can’t help feeling more than a little overwhelmed with pride when he sees him walk on stage.

He came with Iris, who was  _finally_  looking forward to meet the man who Barry can’t seem to stop talking about. Harrison agreed that after the launch, Barry and Iris would be invited to the after party to meet the rest of his employees, and possibly even talk about job prospects with them. 

In other words: Barry was the trophy boyfriend, and Harrison can hardly wait to show him off to the rest of his friends.

“You know he really does look better in person than he does in all those books you keep at home,” Iris leans in and tells Barry as the speech begins.

“I told you,” Barry sings, chuckling until he feels the leash tugging. “Coco, stop.”

The dog starts growling and pulling itself forward, which, isn’t making Barry the most popular person in the crowd right now. He hopes that Harrison isn’t seeing this, because this is definitely more than a little bit embarrassing.

“What’s wrong with her? I thought she was warming up to you,” Iris says, taking the leash out of Barry’s hands and trying to calm the dog down.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Barry says, letting go and rubbing his red palms on his sweater. He looks at Harrison, who seems to be wrapping up his speech right about now, and for a second he meets his steel blue eyes again.

The cold of the night isn’t enough to mask his blush right now, and Harrison isn’t making things any better either. He’s just standing there, staring at him while Barry’s looking left and right and trying not to make any more eye contact. Eventually, he waves the crowd goodbye and exits with a smile.

The dog barks again. Barry wants to scold her, but he then gets a text from Captain Singh which he  _really_  doesn’t need right now.

 _Barry, we need you at the station. It’s an emergency. – Cap S._  

Barry groans, and feels like kicking whatever’s in the nearest proximity. The dog isn’t an option, so he kicks the ground instead. 

“Barry, what’s wrong?” Iris asks, clearly looking worried.

“I… need to go, back to the station. Apparently, Captain Singh needs me there and it’s an emergency so,” Barry sighs, watching the rest of the crowd disperse.

“But the particle accelerator? Aren’t you going to stick around and watch it turn on?” Iris says. “It’s all you ever talk about.”

“I know, I know—” Barry says, sighing again as he tries to think of a way around this. “Maybe if I go there, and get things done quickly… I’ll be able to make it back here on time to watch it turn on.”

“Like Christmas lights when we were kids?" 

“Exactly like that.” Barry smiles and waves her off as he starts to make his way back to the station. What could Captain Singh even want at this hour? He’s finished all of his reports this week and unless there’s a double-homicide right now he’s pretty sure it can wait.

When he gets to the station, he heads straight for Captain Singh’s office. He expected him to be in a state of frenzy, or panic, even, but he’s just sitting there, with his hand on his forehead as if he’s in pain from the stack of papers on his desk.

“Allen,” he says and looks up. “Glad you're here. We need you to check the inventory back at your lab.”

“My— my inventory?” Barry says, growing more confused by the second.

“Yeah, remember the rookie, George? The one who took over some of your work a couple months ago when he was still testing the waters? Apparently he quit, and he stole a bunch of stuff from the weapons department, as well as chemicals from your lab. So we need you to see what’s there and what’s not, then report back to me as soon as you’re done.”

“My— my lab? He stole from me? From us?” Barry says, thinking about how many chemicals he had there and how long it would take to record every single one of them. At this point, he wishes it were a double-homicide. At least then, he could just put in the DNA samples in the PCR machine and come back the next day to finish up the job.

Captain Singh looks at him. “You gonna just stand here or are you gonna do your job?”

Barry nods quickly and runs up to his lab. He wants to call Harrison, and tell him that he might not even make it tonight, maybe not until the after party, at least. But he doesn’t want to leave him hanging either, so he calls him, against his better judgment and hopes his co-workers don’t think of him as a needy boyfriend.

“Hey,” Barry says as he picks up. “Harrison, I, uh… I just wanted to tell you that I got called in last minute to the station for some work and I might not make it tonight, and I am  _so_  sorry about this.”

“We all have work to do, Barry, you should know that I of all people would understand,” Harrison says, and Barry smiles to himself.

“Yeah, but… I just, didn’t want to disappoint you,” he says, which was a lot harder to admit than he thought it would be.

There’s a pause, and Harrison says, “You’ve never disappointed me, Barry.”

Barry nods, wishing that he could just hold him right now. “Yeah, yeah. I just, don’t want to.”

“I assure you, Barry Allen, you are anything _but_ a disappointment. One thing that might be, though, is the delay in the launch of the accelerator due to the amount of protestors outside.”

Barry frowns. “Protestors?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. But, anyways. Get back to work, I’ll come pick you up whenever you’re done,” Harrison says.

Barry relaxes slightly and leans over on the wall. “I love you,” he says, and it’s the first time he’s ever said it, but the words come out easily and without a moment’s hesitation.

“I love you too,” Harrison replies, not missing a single beat. There’s silence after that, and Barry thinks he’s about to say something else, but he doesn’t. He hangs up the phone and gets straight to work on the first rack of chemicals.

He spends about half an hour almost finishing the first shelf, until he gets a text message from Harrison.

_We’re about to go live. Hope you enjoy the show. See you soon, Barry. – Harrison W._

Barry runs up to his window and focuses his sight on S.T.A.R Labs. It looks beautiful at night, and if he squints even closer, he thinks he can see the particle accelerator turning on. It’s not exactly like Christmas, with the way it crackles on the sides, like lightning being contained in a dome. He even thinks he starts to see waves of energy bursting from it. Is that supposed to happen?

It spreads all around Central City, like a circular band stretching out, and soon enough it starts to come closer and closer. He never expected that he’d be here, out of all places, at this exact moment. But then again he never expected that he would have met Harrison Wells exactly one year ago, under questionable circumstances. The future is a funny thing, and if he’s learned anything over the past year, is that there’s no telling what would happen next.


End file.
